Never Tear Us Apart
by killhilvolume2
Summary: Arthur and Eames have always been a little too close for comfort, but nobody ever told them it was wrong. AU! Warnings:Incest! Arthur/Eames slash.Rated for future chapters.
1. Prologue

Never Tear Us Apart

Rating:M for later chapters

Warning: AU! INCEST! will have sexual content in later chapters!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

A/N: This fic is contains incest between two half brother's. Yes, I am aware that this is a taboo subject, so if you don't feel comfortable with the content then please don't read. I gave you fair warning. Also this fic is loosely based on the film "From Beginning To End" but only slightly. I don't really know where this is going, but if you guys have any ideas feel free to let me know. I'm debating whether or not this will be completely AU or if I should weave this into the actual inception plot so let me know what you think. :)

FYI: just to avoid confusion, Eames and Arthur are half brother's on their mother's side. Their mother is American, Eames' dad is English, and Arthur's dad is American.

Never Tear Us Apart (Prologue)

Eames will always remember the first day his life started.

It wasn't on a pleasantly warm afternoon in a London hospital, as is mother fought through agonizing pain to give birth to him in a stuffy delivery room with his father by her side, holding her delicate hand tightly in his own.

No, the first day of his life began on a rainy October morning in the waiting room of a Seattle hospital as he sat quietly on one of the rather uncomfortable chairs, waiting patiently for someone to come fetch him.

His mother's mum, Grandma Helen, had told him to stay put in her rough New York accent (which seemed to dare him to disobey) and then disappeared down the hall with Grandpa George, leaving him with just his Uncle John, who was too preoccupied with chatting up a pretty blonde nurse to keep Eames company.

He can distinctly remember his disappointment at the lack of picture books in the waiting room, and the longing he felt to defy his grandmother and go explore the hospital; perhaps catch a glance of some blood and guts!

Sitting still was not easy for a six year old, especially one who was as fidgety as he had been, and it was it a relief when his grandmother came back to the waiting room, all smiles and warmth as she held out her wrinkly hand towards him.

"Come on Marcus," she said to him, her voice filled with pure joy "It is time for you to meet him."

Eames took her soft hand and she led him down the hall, past doctor's and nurses who smiled down at him knowingly.

It seemed like forever before the reached the end of the hall, where they entered the last room on the right.

Eames can remember the anticipation that had building all morning, reach its peek as he entered the tiny white room and saw his mother lying on the hospital bed; her wavy gold hair curled around her face and her dazzling hazel eyes shining as he quickly let go of his grandmother's hand and rushed to her side.

"Hello darling." she whispered, to him as she carded her long fingers through his dirty blonde hair. "There is someone here who wants to meet you."

Then from out of nowhere, a tall lengthy figure with dark hair and chocolate colored eyes appeared with what looked like a bundle of blue blankets gently cradled in his arms.

This man, Eames stepfather Max, with his ever serious expression that contradicted the warmth in his eyes, signaled for Eames to sit down in the chair next to his mother's bed with a sideways nod of the head, and Eames quietly obeyed.

The chair was a lot more comfortable then the waiting room, but the way his mother and grandparents were looking at him -like a cute puppy in a pet store-made him more anxious than he had been earlier.

"Okay son, hold out your arms." Max ordered gently as moved to Eames' side.

Eames stuck out his arm towards Max, who carefully extracted the small bundle out of the crook of his strong arms, and placed them into Eames' small skinny ones. "Marcus, this is your brother, Arthur."

He looked down at the tiny baby in his arms, who stared back at him through his small, glassy eyes, and waved his tiny fist in the air, as though he was vying for Eames complete attention.

With all the delicacy he could muster at his age, Eames took his free hand and cautiously moved it towards Arthur's little one. Almost immediately, the baby's hand latched onto Eames' thumb, and curled his tiny finger's tightly around it.

A warm pressure formed at the pit of his stomach, as the tiny being—his little brother—lay in his arms, and held his finger. Everyone else in the room seemed to vanish and it was just the two of them.

Eames wouldn't know the full impact that moment would have on both of them until he was much older, but what he did understand was that this was somebody he needed to love and protect with everything he had, for the rest of their lives.


	2. Part One

**Ahhh I'm sorry this took so long to post! I got hit with the flu yesterday morning so I've been a bit out of it.**

**Okay so I feel like this chapter has moved the story a bit backwards, and focus' more on Arthur and Eames' parents. I just thought I would get their back story out of the way so that I can move forward and not focus on it so much in the future. I hope my reasoning is sound enough.**

**Thanks to all who reviewed the prologue. I hope you'll continue to provide me with some more comments/suggestion/feedback because they really keep me going. :)**

Never Tear Us Apart (Part One)

Julianne McCoy was lucky enough to have two great loves in her life.

Henry Eames was a charmer; the kind of man who every girl dreamed would sweep them off their feet the moment they laid eyes on him. His gray eyes danced with life whenever he spoke in his seductively smooth British accent, and despite her usually clear head, Julianne couldn't help but get caught up in his passion.

He was an art dealer, ten years her senior—thirty years old when they first met—which didn't even faze Julianne, the young psychology major, who had come to London not only to study in one of the greatest cities in the world, but to break free of the bubble her overbearing Catholic mother was determined to trap her in. Henry was experienced and beautiful. He possessed a pair of luscious lips that formed the a wicked grin when he was being mischievous, and a adorable pout when he didn't get his way; very much like a child.

When Henry asked her to marry him, barely six months after they started dating, it was in the middle of a crowded street with everybody watching as he got down on one knee, and presented her with a ring she knew he couldn't afford. He reveled in making a big dramatic scene in every aspect of his life and Julianne sort of adore that about him; in another life he probably would have been a good actor.

They weren't married long before Julianne found out she was pregnant. As terrified as she was to be a mother at twenty-one, they fear faded away when she held her son for the first time.

Marcus was a beautiful baby; the perfect mix of her and Henry with beautiful dark blonde hair, and lovely bluish gray eyes. Like, his father he commanded the attention of everybody around, whether it was through dramatic crying fits, or just by making adorable sounds, which anyone with heart couldn't ignore.

"He is going to be a lady-killer one day." Henry would say with shameless pride. "Just like his dear ol' dad."

For two years, the three of them made up a rather picturesque little family. Julianne continued to balance motherhood and her studies with a clear and focused head, while Henry continued his art dealings. They lived in a decent sized flat and bickered over stupid things like what to watch on T.V. and who was going to drop Marcus off at Henry's sister's place each morning.

In hindsight, Julianne knew they could have stayed like that forever; a simple life, with a man whom she loved dearly and who loved her return, along with their brilliant son whom they both adored, but life had other plans for them.

* * *

Maxwell Blanc came into Julianne's life at the strangest time imaginable.

An up and coming young abstract painter from Seattle, Henry had introduced them at an art show that was displaying some of Max's work.

He was quite and polite; nothing like Henry. His smiles were small, just a fleeting upwards movement of his thin lips, which vanished in the blink in the eye. He kept his conversations short, and never strayed off topic.

Julianne found Max to be quite boring and far too serious for a twenty-four year old, but his paintings where so complex and intelligent, that she could help, but admire him. When he talked about art over drinks with her and Henry, after the show, it was in a slow voice that was filled with intensity and passion that had been quite unexpected, and she found herself reevaluating her initial opinion of the man.

He was quite handsome, fitting the "tall, dark and handsome" bill. His doe brown eyes showed all the emotion that his facial expressions lacked, and when he took a sip of his scotch on the rocks and those eyes met her hazel ones, something in her chest seemed to drop into the pit of her stomach.

Of course she tried to ignore it. She was the wife of a good man, and the mother to an adorable son, but Henry's interest in Max's work caused the young man to be around a lot more than Julianne was comfortable with.

He and Henry got along famously, and he was genuinely fond of Marcus; never failing to bring him a nice toy or a treat whenever he came by the house. He always made an effort to complement Julianne, which she always figured was just pure politeness, and eventually she overcame the nervous feeling she got whenever he was in the room, and they became great friends.

She hoped it would be enough to have Max's friendship. She would never hurt her son, or her marriage in order to satisfy her selfish desires, and she was certain that Max did not anything but friendship from her.

It took over a course of a year for Julianne to realize how life had a funny way of turning the tables on those who think they have everything figured out.

Her relationship with Henry started losing fire quickly, and it broke both of their hearts when they realized that perhaps their marriage was not going to work out as nicely as they anticipated.

Conversation started to lack the luster that once played a crucial role in their relationship. Julianne grew tired of Henry's constant need for attention, and he turned to others for it. She was almost sure he wasn't cheating on her, but that did not mean she was comfortable in his excessive flirting, or the fact that he was noticeably starting to hit the bottle more.

Her friendship with Max was growing more and more complicated as the months past. He listened to her woes with quite compassion and understanding; always looking her straight in the eye when she spoke, but that was all she got from him, and lord how she wished it was enough.

The bickering about what to watch on T.V. transformed into more intense fights about Henry's late nights out, and the fact that Julianne seemed completely distracted all the time, not by the hard work she was doing on her degree, but rather by a pair of brown eyes.

In the end, they parted amicably, not just for Marcus's sake, but because at one point they had loved each other with all they had, and there would always be in her heart for him. They had shared a child and shared a life together, which while brief, was a very important chapter in her life.

It would have been easy for her to tell people "It wasn't meant to be" or "I was just too young" but Julianne wasn't a liar; lying required too much commitment. The truth was she had loved two men. One of those men gave her two good years and a child. The other man however, gave her something she didn't even know she needed: Time.

* * *

Max didn't come around between the time of the Eames' quick separation, and even quicker divorce, and Julianne wasn't the only one who missed him.

Marcus had grown quite attached to Max, almost to a point where it made Henry jealous. The boy responded to the man's quite warmth and gentleness, as well to the presents he brought over, which he would show off to everyone for days and days.

Julianne had been rather surprised at how good Max was with kids considering he had a tendency to shy away from people.

"I want my a few of my own someday." He once said to her over coffee, with Marcus bouncing happily on his lap, and she couldn't help bought think of what a good father he would make, and a good husband at that. Boy, did she envy the women who would be lucky enough to get him.

Marcus always asked about him during those months. He was constantly asking her when Max was coming over, and if he was going to bring him over the chocolate chip cookie he asked for, the last time Max came over.

She didn't know quite how to answer him. Max had been friends with Henry first, so she assumed that he didn't feel obligated to come by the flat anymore, now that they weren't together, but when Max showed up at her door, three months after the divorce, with coffee in one hand and chocolate chip cookie in the other she was relived to find that wasn't the case.

"I'm sorry I didn't stop by sooner." He said in his quite, yet deep voice; those brown orbs of his filled with an emotion that she prayed were for her. "I just thought you needed some space."

There wasn't much that needed to be said after that. He was back in her life, and at that moment it was enough.

* * *

Maxwell and Julianne were married less than two years later in a small London ceremony.

Henry had been there; 8 month sober and seeing a lovely woman named Alice who was closer in age, and had a tighter hold on him than Julianne ever could. He was genuinely happy for the two of them, and remained a constant presence in their life.

When Max was offered a teaching position in the art department at the University of Washington, it wasn't a question of whether or not he would take it; there was no doubt he was going to take the job. The problem was that Julianne didn't think she had it in her to separate Marcus from his father. She loved them both too much to put them through that.

Henry was the one who came up with the ultimate solution. Marcus would live with Max and Julianne in Seattle, and spend his summers and holidays with Henry in London when he was old enough to fly by himself. Julianne knew that this would be hard for Henry, but was grateful for his cooperation in the situation, especially when she found out that she was pregnant again.

Never having had siblings of her own, she couldn't wait to give Marcus a brother or a sister. Max, who had his brother John—the hot shot criminal lawyer who had "accidently" grabbed her ass one too many times during their wedding reception—didn't seem to understand her enthusiasm when it came to sibling relationships, but in his own happiness, he decided to go along with it.

Marcus seemed to understand what was going. He was five years old, and an exceptionally smart—if not a bit cheeky—child, who knew fully well what his mother meant when Julianne and Max told that him there was going to be a new baby around.

"I am going to have a brother," the boy had chirped to one of flight attendants on the way to Seattle. "My mum says it might be a girl, but I _know_ I am going to have brother."

The attendant just smiled at his certainty, and handed him a bag pretzels, which he happily took.

Julianne could only hope that he wouldn't be too disappointed if his prediction didn't come true.

* * *

Four months after the move to Seattle, Arthur Maxwell Blanc came quietly into the world.

Named for Max's father-who had succumbed to cancer a month before Julianne found out she was pregnant—Arthur was the spitting image of his father, from the shape of his nose to his unusually long fingers, as well as his dark hair and eyes; a sharp contrast to Marcus's blonde hair and gray eyes , but he was gorgeous nonetheless.

Max, ever calm and collected held his newborn son in his arms; all of the love for Arthur reflected in those eyes of his. Her husband may not be one to show great emotion on the outside, but the way he looked at their son, like he was the most precious thing in the world, was a truly beautiful moment that she would always treasure.

The highlight of Arthur's first day on earth—for her at least—was when both of her sons met for the first time.

Watching Marcus hold Arthur with so much delicacy and seeing the way they responded to each other brought tears to her eyes. When Arthur's hand wrapped around Marcus's finger, she knew that a close bond was already in the midst.

"What do you think, love?' she asked her eldest son "Is he everything you dreamed he would be?

Wide eyed with wonder, Marcus smiled up at her and nodded.

"He is better," the boy replied then focused back on his brother "he is real."

**I totally lifted the last line from "500 Days Of Summer." Hey, I am writing an Incest fic which should be enough proof that I have no shame! :)**


	3. Part Two

**Author's Note: I feel like this fic is actually moving forward now. Yay! Thanks to all those who have left review and added this story to their alerts/favorite list. I really appreciate it. Remember feedback/comments/suggestions/concerns are more than welcome. They really keep me going. :) **

Never Tear Us Apart (Part Two)

Two boys walked hand in hand down the street, laughing amongst themselves and enjoying the rare stream of golden sunlight which poured out of the Seattle sky.

"Mom is making pork chops tonight." The littlest one, an adorable dark haired boy around seven cried with excitement as he jumped up and down to emphasize his joy. "I love pork chops, don't you Eames?"

The oldest, a striking blonde haired boy of thirteen, smiled down at his little brother with amusement.

"It's alright, but I'd prefer steak and potatoes." He replied, as he guided the younger boy off the side to let a woman on a bicycle pass them. The little boy, disheartened that his brother did not share his enthusiasm for pork chops, pouted miserably. The elder, took notice of his brother's unhappiness by the way the grip on his hand loosened significantly, and sighed. "I can't like everything you like Arthur."

Arthur quickly relinquished his hold on Eames' hand altogether and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"I know that stupid." The boy scowled as he attempted to move his little legs quickly away from his brother.

His attempt was soon foiled when the much bigger Eames reached out and grabbed Arthur's backpack then gently pulled his brother back to his side.

"Come back here." Eames sighed in frustration at his little brother's antics. Arthur was usually very quiet and well behaved, but like with all little kids he could be quite a handful sometimes. "Mom says you suppose to stay with me at all times."

"She never said I had to hold your hand." Arthur scoffed despite the fact that he really didn't mind it when his older brother held his hand.

Eames, who was a little more than hurt at his brothers words, felt his heart fall. He knew there would come a time when Arthur wouldn't want to hold his hand anymore; he was just hoping it wouldn't be this soon.

"So you don't want my hand anymore?" he asked, masking the hurt in his voice with false acceptance "its fine with me if you don't."

Arthur looked up at him with a frown. Hadn't his brother known he really didn't mean it?

Before he had the chance to make amends, the cries of "Marcus" echoed from behind them.

Two girls, one blonde with brightest pair of yellow jeans Arthur had ever seen, and the other, a red head with curls and freckles approached them with matching smiles on their faces.

Eames wanted to run for it. They were two girls in his math class, who always giggle in the back of the classroom whenever he talked; whispering things like "his accent is so dreamy" and how he is "totally hot." While he was flattered by their words, he had no interest in either of them.

Not finding it in him to be rude, he slowed down his steps, allowing the girls an opportunity to catch up with them.

Arthur noticed the slowing of his brother's pace and followed his lead, though he was slightly annoyed that those girls where interrupting _his_ time with Eames.

"How's it going Marc?" the blonde girl asked in an irritatingly shrill voice.

Eames stiffened at the name "Marc". The only people who he didn't mind calling him that were his parents, his stepdad, and Arthur, and even then he still wasn't fond of that nickname. He didn't even like his real name, let alone a shortened version of it.

"Fine thanks, Katie." He said politely to the blonde, and then looked to the red head, whose face turned an immediate beet color. "Hey, Natasha."

"Hello Marc," the redhead smiled, unable to look him in the eyes.

Eames wasn't quite sure what to say next. He didn't know much about girls except that they sometimes smelled nice, and that his dad was always asking if he had "caught" himself one yet whenever they talked on the phone.

Arthur, who was growing ever impatient with just standing around and watching those girls gawk at his brother, took it upon himself to speed things up.

"He doesn't like being called Marc." Arthur said in a matter-of-fact manner tone, which Eames found to be disturbingly reminiscent of the boy's father. The girls, on the other hand, looked down at Arthur with blank stares, as though they had just realized his presence. "He likes being called Eames."

The girls exchanged odd looks, before turning their attention back to Eames.

"We were just headed to Natasha's house to watch a movie." Katie chirped, completely ignoring anything the little boy had said. "Do you want to come?'

Eames opened his mouth to politely refuse, but Arthur, who didn't like to be ignored by anyone, and who sure didn't want his brother to go with those girls, piped in first.

"He can't. My mom said we have to come straight home after school." Arthur explained coolly. "She's making pork chops tonight."

"Oh." The girls replied in unison. Ugly frowns replaced their eager smiles, and Eames was sure that Katie was on the verge of tears.

"Yeah, he is right." Eames confirmed with nod, secretly glad for his little brother's intervention. "Sorry."

"Aw, that's too bad." Natasha whined with a pout. "Maybe we can hang out some other time then?"

_Doubtful_ Eames thought to himself but decides not to voice the thought aloud.

"Yeah, maybe." He lied, adding a small smile that sent the girls into a fit of giggles.

Arthur (who was growing more annoyed with the girls at each passing second) rolled his brown eyes at the inhuman noises they were making.

"Eames, can we please go now?" Arthur pleaded. "I'm hungry and grandma said she would have cookies ready when we got home."

"We really do have to go." Eames agreed, grateful again for his brother's presence. "I'll see you later."

"Okay. See you tomorrow." Katie said eagerly as though Eames had just made a date with her.

"Bye Marc!" Natasha added, bating her eyelashes awkwardly.

Eames and Arthur turned back towards the direction of their house. The promise of cookies and pork chops hung in the air, as they walked away from the girls and back into their own little world.

They barely made it ten feet down the street before Eames felt a small hand grasp his tightly.

"I thought you didn't like holding my hand." Eames said to his brother smugly, though secretly relieved that his brother wasn't drifting away from him.

"I like when you hold my hand." Arthur admitted quietly "and I sure don't want one of _those_ girls holding your hand."

"You don't have to worry about that." Eames assured his brother with a laugh. "I don't like either of them very much."

"That's good." Arthur replied happily as he looked up as older brother with a smile. "I'm glad. Really glad"

Eames smiled back at him. He loved seeing Arthur happy, but above all he loved being the one to make him happy.


	4. Part Three

**Author's Note: I fail! I am sorry it took so long to update. Real life has been kicking my ass, but I promise to try and update more quickly from here on out. I feel pretty awful, because as a reader i know how frustrating the wait for chapter updates. Not that I am trying to flatter myself by thinking that people are desperate to read my work, but I am writing this for you guys, the readers, and I don't like leaving you hanging.**

**I really love all the nice reviews and the story alerts. I welcome all feedback and suggestions,for I love to hear what you guys want or don't want to see, so don't be afraid to throw your thoughts out there, or to nag at me for an update; I'll take what I can get. :D**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything really, just an overweight Chihuahua and my pride.  
**

Never Tear Us Apart (Part Three)

Max Blanc had always noticed the unusually tight bond his sons had formed over the years, though he wasn't sure if their closeness was a cause for concern or not.

When Arthur was a baby, Marcus would hover over his brother like a mother hen, becoming very territorial whenever anyone outside of the family would hold or play with him. Hell, there was hardly a second where the boy's ever watchful gray eyes left the sight of his little brother. Of course at that time, it just seemed to Max that his stepson was doing what he felt an older brother was supposed to do for their little brother, and their mother didn't seem too worried about the older boy's protective streak.

"He will get over it in time, love." His wife assured him with her radiant smile that still made his heart melt every time; the smile that always made his believe anything was possible.

However as Arthur grew, the more protective Marcus became of the boy, to an extent where it was almost impossible separate them without repercussions.

When Marcus's father had flown in to take his son back to England with him for the first time since Arthur was born, the boy-while ecstatic to see his father-was absolutely devastated when it came time for him to leave his brother for two months.

"I can't go mum!" he cried through broken sobs as a then two year old Arthur latched onto his leg; not yet old enough to understand why his brother was so upset. "What if something happens to him while I am gone?"

Max, his wife and the boy's father all exchanged horrified glances as the boy continued to cry and cry.

"Now darling, your father has missed you very much and wants to spend time with you." Julianne had tried to reason with the boy. "I promise that Max and I will take good care of him while you're away."

The boy calmed down after that and they where able to get him on the plane, but the whole time he was a way, they would get a call at absurd hours in the morning from Marcus inquiring about Arthur.

"Marc, didn't your dad explain to you that it is very early here?" Max had asked the boy in a sleepy voice. He had a class to teach at eight o'clock and someone had to put a stop to this.

"Yes, but I was just making sure Arthur was still okay." Marcus explained innocently. "I'm really sorry I woke you up Max, but I had a bad dream that something had happened to him."

What the hell was he supposed to say to that? "Stop calling you little punk, your mother and I are trying to sleep?" No, despite his annoyance, Max knew the boy was going through some separation issues, and that he would have to try to claim his stepson's fears the best he could.

"Marcus, your brother is in his room safe and sound." He reassured the boy in a claim and collected voice. "You don't have anything to worry about."

"Okay." Was all the boy replied, though Max could hear the doubt in his voice.

"I promise that we are taking good care of him." He tried again. "Now go have some fun, and we will call you later so that you can talk to your brother."

"Okay." The boy repeated, though this time a little bit more lively. "Tell Arthur and mum I love them. Please."

"Of course son." He replied with a smile gracing his lips.

And with that, Max couldn't find it in himself to be mad about the calls anymore, though he and Marcus had a long talk about time zones when the boy returned later that August.

* * *

Splitting them up never got any easier, but Max always hoped that one day it would be, especially when Marcus-who suddenly insisted on being called by his last name—became a teenager.

Max might not have been an expert in sibling dynamics, but he knew what it was like to be a thirteen year old boy: you start noticing girls, begin the inevitable rebellion against your parents, and leave your childhood behind, which was what Max feared the most.

Marcus was six years older than Arthur, which quite a difference, especially when it came to maturity. He knew the boy was going to want to spend less time with his brother and more time with his friends, and when that happened, it would hurt Arthur deeply.

So he waited for that day to come, and was prepared to be there for Arthur- his only biological child-when Marcus would start to distance himself from the younger boy.

As it turns out, Max Blanc's wait would be a lot longer than he anticipated

* * *

The call came around one-thirty, shortly after Max dismissed his afternoon art history class.

He had just sat down in his desk; exhausted after giving a rather long lecture about the Baroque period, when the phone rang.

Although he was in no mood to talk after gives a two hour lecture, he picked up the heavy receiver and placed it up to his ear.

"Professor Blanc speaking." He answered dryly, the weight of the days stress pressing painfully on his shoulders.

"Hello Professor Blanc, this is the school calling about your sons Marcus Eames, and Arthur Blanc." the sharp voice of an older woman said with the up most seriousness in her tone" There has been an incident involving the boys and I need either you or your wife to come down here as soon as possible."

The worst kind of feeling rose in the pit of his stomach.

"Are they alright?" he asked with rising panic.

"They are both fine," the woman assured him "but I do need you to come to the school."

"Alright." Max replied, relieved that the boys where okay. "I'll head over there right away."

He hung up the phone and scrambled to grab his coat and briefcase, all whilst trying to imagine what trouble his boys could have gotten themselves into.

* * *

When he walked into the school's main office, he immediately spotted Arthur and Marcus huddled together on two wooden chairs: Marcus's right arm was draped protectively around his brother's shoulder as he stroked the little boy's dark hair gently while they sat in comfortable silence.

Max stood in the doorway for what seemed like forever watching how his stepson handled Arthur. It was innocent, and yet it brought up an extremely uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach, one that he had been ignoring for seven years; the feeling that closeness between the boys was not normal.

He did his best to repress this distressing thought as he approached his son's; hating this ugly feeling that was nagging at him, and try his best to make sure the boys did not sense his discomfort.

"Hey kids." Max said to the brothers, who immediately looked up at the sound of their fathers voice.

"Dad!" Arthur cried with joy as he jumped up from the chair and into his father's welcoming arms. Whatever the incident Max had been called down to discuss with the principle, hadn't been bad enough to dampen the little boy's spirits. His son looked up at him with those soft brown eyes that where identical to his own, and smiled. "Dad, you won't believe what Eames did! He fought three eighth graders by himself, and they didn't even scratch him. He was like superman, or something."

Max shot a look of disappointment towards his stepson, who in turn shot a look of defiance right back at him.

"Marc, is this true?" Max asked, although he didn't really need a verbal confirmation; the shamelessness in Marcus's face proved that it was true.

"Yes, and I am not sorry I did." Marcus responded flatly without a trace of remorse for his actions in even the slightest form. "They deserved what they got."

Max wanted to hear more of what had transpired from his son's—especially from Marcus—but before he had the opportunity to let them elaborate on the situation, the school's principle Miss Bay, a crinkly old bitch in her mid sixties-who Max was convinced had never gotten laid once in her miserable life—waddled out of her office with a scowl pinned on her face.

"Mr. Blanc, step into my office please." The principle beckoned in her flat monotone voice, and for the first time in years Max felt like he was back in school again.

* * *

The discussion with Miss Bay proved to be complete disaster.

She explained to him that three older boys in Marcus' class had teased his son's close relationship when they had seen the two boys walking around the playground holding hands. Apparently their "teasing" had made Arthur upset to the point of tears, and unsurprisingly enough—at least not surprising to Max—Marcus had responded to the boy's bullying with his fist.

"He is very protective of Arthur." Max attempted to explain to the principle the second she had finished explaining what had gone down. "But he is not usually violent kid, by any means."

It wasn't a lie; Marcus was a very even tempered kid. It was Arthur who had a rather short fuse, though really only when he was being defensive or provoked, but when it came down to it they were both very good kids.

"It isn't Marcus's use of violence that concerns me in this case, Mr. Blanc," Miss Bay explained "It is the closeness between your sons that I find to be the issue here."

Christ not that, Max couldn't help but think as a sick feeling of mortification rose reared its ugly head for the second time that day. It was bad enough to think that your own children may be too close, but for somebody to bring it out in open so casually the way this woman was doing—well it just pissed him off.

"I don't understand what you're getting at." Max replied almost defensively, though he knew exactly what she was talking about.

Miss Bay let out a long exasperated sigh and directed her steely eyes away from Max's and off to the side, so that she was no longer looking him in the eye.

"Marcus and Arthur spend every recess together, and do not interact with any children their own age." She said gravely. "What concerns me is their lack of interest in anyone else, but each other. It isn't normal behavior Mr. Blanc, and I think you and your wife need to have a talk—"

"Hold on a second," Max interrupted, unable to listen any longer "Who the hell are you to say that my kids aren't normal? I think you should be more concerned about those boys bullying my sons."

"But don't forget Mr. Blanc, Marcus reacted in a way that does not adhere to Saint Mary's code of conduct, and I could have him suspended, even expelled for his actions." The principle responded coolly. "As for you questioning my authority on child behavior, I feel very confident in my ability to spot abnormal behavior amongst my students, and what I see developing between Arthur and Marcus is well..."

"Well what?" Max snapped impatiently, dreading whatever it was she was going to suggest.

"Disturbing, Mr. Blanc." She replied in a very matter of fact manner. "If you and your wife don't take action now, you will never be able to fix this potentially detrimental problem."

Deep down Max knew that she had a point, but he couldn't stand to here anymore. He loved his children and he couldn't bear the thought of his sons being casted out by others; however he didn't think he had it in him to sit those boys down and tell them that there was something wrong with them and their behavior towards each other; at least not now anyway.

"I appreciate your concern, Miss Bay," Max lied, secretly hating her for bringing to light an issue which he would have liked to have stayed buried "but my wife and I will handle any concerns _we_ have with our sons the way we see fit."

The principle had nothing to say to that, and Max was relieved she didn't press the issue further. Instead she sent the boys home for the day, to which Arthur happily responded with a simple request: "Can we go to McDonalds?"

* * *

The car ride on the way home was quite, except for the sounds of Arthur slurping loudly on the chocolate milkshake in his hands.

The conversation with Miss Bay was still on the front burner of Max's mind, especially when she called Arthur and Marcus' relationship "disturbing," but when he looked in the rear view mirror only to see the boys sitting side by side, staring peacefully out at the world through the car window, he buried the notion deep down inside him and silently vowed to never let it surface again.


End file.
